


The Blood of the Covenant and the Water of the Womb

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Series: Dark Matter [13]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Lotor (Voltron), Found Family, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Good Lotor (Voltron), Krolia and the Paladins show up for smal bits, Nonbinary Keith (Voltron), Team as Family, Trans Keith (Voltron), duh - Freeform, i love infodumping about the Galra, lotor is goin on a JOURNEY my dudes, nerd lotor?, possibly, that part isn't really explicet but it's always true, this time it's Lotor giving a history lesson, why is taht NOT A TAG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Five maybes Lotor tells himself over his journey to truly understanding the Blade's resident Red Paladin (and, maybe, discovering himself along the way).





	1. Maybe He Didn't Have To Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> so apparently i spent this entire fic (and possibly several years) spelling Acxa's name wrong. I hope I got it all.

The first time Lotor saw the Red Paladin in person, he wasn’t sure what to think. The impression he’d gotten from the rumor-mill and fighting the guy ship-on-ship was of a tall, strong, fully-grown künantok who knew how to use his claws and was as ferocious as a dubaznai exposed to the sun. 

Keith met none of those expectations.

He stood just outside of the cell Lotor was sitting in, arms crossed over his chestplate. Black hair framed violet and white eyes that were narrowed, considering him. Lotor considered him back. He didn’t look like he was even older than fifty standard Daibazaalit years, and yet he was a Paladin of Voltron. He did not have the markings of his house, which he would have had as a full-grown Galra, nor did he have the same type of glove Lotor had seen other Blades with that let them extend their claws without damaging the suit.

He was so….young. So  _ Human. _ As young as Lotor had been the first time Zarkon had thrown a sword at him and told him to fight if he ever wanted to wear the crown. He hadn’t had his Marmorait Crest, hadn’t had his claws, hadn’t had nearly the experience he knew the person in front of him had despite years of training.

Curious, he reached out with the abilities afforded him by his Altean heritage, and was almost physically shoved back by the sheer force of the quintessence in front of him. A whirlwind of fire kept him at bay, sparking against the tendril of his own hurricane. There was something familiar hidden in the depths of the Paladin-type quintessence, but he couldn’t place it. 

“You’re the Red Paladin.”

Slightly accented but fluent Galran flowed off the Paladin’s tongue. “No. I’m just Keith.”

Lotor narrowed his eyes. “But you  _ are _ a Paladin.”

“Theoretically, I am still connected to both the Red and Black Lions. But I’m not a Paladin.”

“Then why are you here?”

Keith sighed; Lotor’s eyes caught on the lock of black hair that floofed out of his eyes. “Objectively, I’m here because Kolivan sent me. Personally, because I wanted to see you in person, before whatever happens next. You saved Voltron from getting destroyed at Naxzela, so I suppose I owe you some thanks.”

There was silence in the room for a long pause. Lotor watched as Keith shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to read the very Human body language. “Do you know why we transferred you here?”

“The Princess mentioned something about offering me a place in the Blade of Marmora. I fail to see why I am still in a cage, then.”

“That’s because you’re not part of the Blade yet. You have to go through the Trials, which is why Kolivan sent me down here. I’m supposed to make sure you get there without running”

Lotor raised an eyebrow. He’d seen the former Red Paladin fight, had piloted against him before, but surely there had to be other Blades more capable for this task. He must’ve been half of Lotor’s size. He stood and stared down at the halfblood, who stared right back up, unflinching. 

“And what if I do?”

“You won’t.”

* * *

_ You won’t. _

Lotor had been running for far too long. He’d been running from the Empire, from his father, from the witch, from every single Galra that sneered down their nose when they realized who he was, what he was. The bastard halfblood prince.

He’d been running from glass and fire since the first time he’d watched Zarkon destroy a planet on a whim.

_ (Maybe he didn’t have to anymore.) _


	2. Maybe He Had a Chance Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor remembers the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This a confusing one tbh but lbr the Trials arena is always confusing

“Prince Lotor?”

He turned at the voice. He  _ recognized _ that voice. She was  _ gone, _ missing, disappeared searching for him to give him the compass stone, how was she here? It had been barely a movement since he’d shown the Coalition Ambar and they’d discovered she was missing. How had the Blade found her this fast?

Behind him stood Tarinya, as fierce and regal as she had ever been in her Altean armor. And behind her….

This wasn’t possible.

Behind Tarinya stood Ven’tar, and several others of teyr people. Tey had perished with their planet, he’d  _ watched them die,  _ how--

“How?”

“Lotor, you have to come with us.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on? How are you here?”

“Just trust me, all will be explained, but you  _ have to come with us.” _

Lotor hesitated, watching them all. This had to be a trick, this wasn’t  _ real. _ “I--”

_ “Lotor!” _

He froze at the other voice he recognized. No. He couldn’t be here.

“Destroy them, or I will.”

Lotor whirled. “You already destroyed them  _ once _ is that not  _ enough _ for you?”

Zarkon gazed down at him from his throne. The Witch stood at his side, looking down her nose at him. Zarkon made a motion and four guards marched into the throne room, each shoving a figure before them. “Destroy them, or these four die.” 

The hoods were pulled off to reveal the faces of his Generals. Ezor, Acxa, and Zethrid were gagged and blinded, but Narti shook her head at him. Lotor looked down at the button in his hand with the instinctive knowledge it would tell the fleet to glass the planet below them. “I can’t--I can’t--please, no one has to die, I know how to get the quintessence without killing them,  _ please, father--” _

_ “ENOUGH.  _ If you will not rid this universe of this scum, then I will.”

“Father! Father,  _ no--”  _ He ran for the button Zarkon had taken from him, trying to break it, trying to save them where he had failed before, but the Witch’s magic slammed into him, sending corrupted quintessence coursing through his veins. 

 

Lotor awoke to a different purple ceiling than the one he expected. This one was brighter, lighter, without the dark shadows so common on Imperial ships. This one was the room he had originally walked into after deciding he was done fighting the Blades. This one had a distinct symbol on the wall, from days long, long past. 

There was a click, and then a voice echoed through the chamber. “Welcome, Lotor, Kihonerva Marmorait, to the Blade of Marmora.”

* * *

_ “Enough! You are to crush this planet beneath your heel!” _

_ “Never!” _

_ “Then I will.” _

Lotor woke, gasping, the vision of molten crust and atmosphere transformed into a firestorm burned into his eyelids. The last words he’d heard that day bounced around in his head:  _ “....live out the remainder of your days remembering your failure here.” _

He did. He would always remember. Zarkon had made sure of that. Zarkon had made sure that day that he would live ashamed of the Crest on his cheeks, of the marks under his eyes, that he would spend the rest of his life hiding them both with the abilities the latter afforded him.

A failure to conquer, a failure to protect. How was he deserving of either family if that was all he was capable of?

He wasn’t.

_ (Maybe he had a chance now.) _


	3. Maybe, it Didn't Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor has a whirlwind few days.

_“Lotor!_ God _fucking_ damn _\--Ezor! Narti! Snipers!”_  

* * *

The first thing that came back to Lotor was sound. There was a quiet beeping somewhere in the room he was lying, along with the sounds of people breathing and a quiet conversation between two voices he recognized.

He managed to open heavy eyes to find Ezor sitting on the edge of a hospital bed. Zethrid was next to her in a chair, big arms waving about to illustrate some story. “--and that’s when I threw the chicken at him.”

“You weren’t even holding the chicken at that point.” Acxa pointed out from his other side. Sitting next to her, Narti nodded in agreement.

“I picked it up!”

“You didn’t pick it up until after he told you not to touch the chickens,” Lotor mumbled. His mouth felt unbelievably dry.

Ezor nodded. “Yeah you didn’t--Hey, he’s awake!”

Immediately all four of them were hovering over the bed, blocking his view of the rest of the room. “How’re you feeling?”

Lotor considered. “Like I got a full blast of dovra through my system and it’s still partially there.”

Acxa pursed her lips. “Understandable. You took quite the hit.”

“What happened?”

“Sniper sentry snuck up on you, aimed wrong and hit your chest instead of your head.”

He was about to respond when the whisper sound of a door opening caused his ears to perk up in that direction. He managed to lean his head around Ezor just in time to see a familiar mop of black hair exit the room. “Was that--?”

Ezor nodded. “Apparently he fought off an entire platoon _by himself_ before Zethrid got there to help drag you back to the ship. She found him with his blade in one hand and your sword in the other, surrounded by sparking sentry parts. The kid’s stronger than a dubaznai.”

“He...saved me?”

Ezor’s head-tail curled up in confusion. “I mean...yeah? Why wouldn’t he?”

“I...don’t know. I figured he had every reason to leave me there.”

Narti placed a hand on his arm. He got a wave of emotions: _stupid thinking stupid thoughts, caring, protection. A heart too big to know how to show it._

He stared at her. That couldn’t possibly be what Keith was feeling, right?

She sent a simple _yes._  

* * *

Lotor finally managed to corner the former Paladin in the training deck a few quintants after the incident. It was far beyond the time both of them should have been sleeping, but Keith was still whaling on the training bots. He watched as Keith spun under a strike, his blade swinging out and up through the bot. It beeped in surrender, dissolving into sparks on the ground.

“Can I help you?”

Lotor didn’t know why he jumped, the other Blade must have known he was there, but he did. “I was looking for you.”

Keith’s blade shrunk down to its dormant state as he turned around. “Why?”

Lotor couldn’t read his expression behind the mask, but he thought he’d been around the Paladin enough to hear the hint of wariness in his voice. “I...was hoping to ask you a question.”

Keith shrugged, shoving his hood off and releasing the mask. Black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and Lotor had to wonder how long he’d been in here. Certainly longer than was healthy for the halfblood, right? “Ask away.”

“Why do you keep helping me?”

His head tilted to the side in a gesture Lotor had learned meant confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean….you’re the one that convinced the Princess to let me and Acxa, Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid join the Blade.”

“I didn’t convince her to let you join the Blade,” Keith corrected as he reached for his water bottle, “I just vouched for the fact that you would be a useful asset.”

“It had the same effect. You’ve vouched for me in front of all three Blade Generals multiple times at this point. You fought off an entire platoon and dragged me back to the ship three quintants ago. Why? You have no obligation to me.”

“It’s my duty.”

Lotor blinked, ears upright. “Duty? Did Kolivan assign you some secret mission to help me?”

“No. I’m just doing my job.”

Now Lotor was _really_ confused. “Your job is to spy, to infiltrate and take down, to attack without qualm--”

 _“No,”_ Keith growled as he whirled back around to face him, “My _job_ is to _protect people,_ whether that be you, or the Paladins, another Blade, or an innocent person halfway across the galaxy. I’ve been dreaming of space my entire life because I could. _Help. People._ My home planet is in ruins, barely surviving on its own because of the absolute _shit_ we’ve done to it in the past few centuries. I chose to be a pilot because I could help find more resources to fix our planet and let people survive. When I got up here I realized that as a Paladin I could help so many more people, reach much further than a tiny Human-made ship could ever get me. And now I’m here, because right now I can help far better being a spy than a Paladin. I spy because we can’t afford another Naxzela. I infiltrate because every bit of information we gather keeps the Paladins and the Rebel fighters and the Blades safe. I take down because it lets us save just a few more lives from the boot of the Empire. I _never_ attack without qualm. I never want to take another life, but sometimes I’m not given the option if I want to continue protecting others because we’re stuck in the middle of this horrific war and it will haunt me to my grave. So _excuse me_ if I’m just doing what I think is right.”

Lotor blinked at him. Keith’s eyes were narrowed, eyes no longer quite their usual off-white. His quintessence was blazing at him, sparks of fire radiating through everything he touched. “But….how does that apply to me?”

Keith sighed and closed his eyes, seeming to deflate slightly. “Because you’re a fucking person.”

Without another word he walked out of the training deck, leaving Lotor to muse in silence.

* * *

_Because you’re a person._

Keith’s explanation had given Lotor cause to think. The former Paladin still hung onto his code of honor, one that it sounded like he had had since childhood. He had an ideal that he clung to, even when the harsh truth of reality bit him in the face. He had people he cared about, that he thought of to get him through hard missions and near-death experiences.

What did Lotor have?

He didn’t know.

Maybe he had Acxa and Narti and Zethrid and Ezor. Maybe he had Ambar and everything he had worked for. But did they want him?

_(Maybe, it didn’t matter.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor Lotor lmao  
> (this chapter was the hardest one to actually put the "maybe" into words and I'm still not satisfied with it completely but I need to get this out)


	4. Maybe, Now he Didn't Have to Watch the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor has quite the interesting ride back to base.

Lotor had to admit that he and Keith worked well together. He maybe even was starting to understand why Kolivan kept placing them on missions together. Their fighting styles were similar, even if they obviously came from very different backgrounds, and Keith’s leadership style suited them both. 

He kept noticing, though, the little things about the former Paladin that made him wonder if Keith had been taught anything about his Galran heritage. He never did any of the House-specific traditions, and seemed vaguely uncomfortable when bowed to. (Lotor wasn’t sure if this was because he kept getting bowed to  _ first, _ or that he didn’t know how to respond, or he’d just never grown up with something similar.) A Galran’s House was one of the most important things, it seemed strange that  _ no one _ had bothered to teach him.

“No, Sailel, I don’t want to play ankizízunai.”

“Aw, come on! It’s the only good way to pass the time on trips back to base.”

Lotor sighed. “Why aren’t you trying to get Keith to join you?”

Sailel snorted. “Good luck getting the kid out of the cockpit. He  _ loves _ sitting in there after missions. Don’t understand it myself, space is too big and creepy, let alone the weird blur that is hyperspace. Anyway, he probably has no idea how to play, but you’re the former Prince, you  _ must _ have some idea--”

“I’ll play with you,” Acxa finally interrupted them. Lotor mouthed a quiet thank you to her.

Sailel grinned and produced the cards from somewhere in the depths of the ship. “Great! Just don’t tell General Kolivan, although you might even be able to convince the others to play.”

“The others?”

Sailel nodded. “General Vanab will probably play, but there’s kind of a pact among us lower rungs to never play ankizízunai against General Kozur. The one time we did xe wiped the floor with us.”

“What are they like?”

Sailel paused mid-dealing. “You mean you’ve never met them? Odd, given your status I’d think you’d have at least met General Kozur.” Lotor confirmed with a shake of his head.

Acxa motioned for Sailel to continue dealing. “I’ve worked with General Kozur once before. Xe’s one of the most brilliant computer scientists I’ve ever met. I’m glad xe’s with the Blade, I can’t imagine ever facing xem in battle.”

Sailel made like they were hiding a whisper from someone. “I’ve heard that Kozur’s the only one in the entire Blade that has beat General Krolia in a sword match. Xe gives Keith a run for his gak, and that kid’s a prodigy if ever there was one.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard General Krolia’s name before.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t have. She went on a deep-cover mission a few years ago and the only people allowed to contact her are the other Generals. There’s a rumor about though that she’s getting extracted soon. Something to do with the recent changes to Blade protocol.”

Lotor and Acxa met eyes. Something about the name and story sounded familiar. “Have you ever met General Krolia?”

“Me? Naw, never interacted with her. Saw her once or twice, I think, but whenever we had big meetings she tended to keep her mask on. I do know there was a big kerfuffle when she first joined the Blade. General Vuevai--she was in charge before General Kolivan, may the stars guide her. General Vuevai didn’t trust her for some reason, despite the fact that she held the Trials record before Keith came along. There was a huge fight between her, General Kolivan, and General Mekaal that no one but Kolivan knows the details of now but it finally ended with Krolia becoming a full Blade. She got fast-tracked up the ranks, especially after Vuevai actually realized what she could do, but honestly she deserved it. She ended up with a small strike-team of her own, the “Dark Whispers” as we called them, and everyone I know that ever worked with them thought she was the best mission leader they’ve ever had. They’re the only team in Blade history to ever go up against a Druid and win.”

Acxa picked up her stack of cards. “So why did she go on the deep-cover mission?”

Sailel shrugged. “No idea. It was a super-dangerous one, deep cover on Ranveig’s scientific base. I don’t know what intel someone stumbled upon to get our fiercest warrior and best diplomat sent there, but she ended up there. The Dark Whispers were kept around, but without General Krolia leading it didn’t work as well and after Raskova was killed they disbanded. I heard  _ another _ rumor though that the Generals are thinking of collecting the other three up again and reforming the Whispers under Keith. Imagine that, General Krolia’s legendary strike team being led by some nobody halfling who doesn’t even know his House.”

“I’d hardly call a former Paladin of Voltron a nobody,” Acxa pointed out. 

Lotor latched onto the other half of the statement. “You mean, he doesn’t know his House? How?”

Sailel shrugged. “Ask the kid. It’s not something he talks about.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment as both Acxa and Sailel took stock of their cards. Lotor mused on this newly revealed information as they started playing. It certainly explained a lot.

“What was General Krolia’s House?”

Sialel paused and blinked. “You know, I don’t actually know. I’m not sure anyone knows. I think we all assumed Marzet for some reason, but I can’t remember why.”

“Reverse play.”

“Stars  _ damn _ it.”

Lotor left them to play. One only played ankizízunai against Acxa once before one knew how any game against her would go. Instead, he made his way up to the cockpit. Keith was still in the pilot chair, as predicted, idly checking the nav and staring out into the blur of hyperspace.

“Sailel try and get you to play ankizízunai?”

“I left them playing against Acxa. I don’t think they’ll ever play her again.”

Keith snorted. “Remind me to introduce her to Pidge next time we’re on a Voltron support mission. But don’t let them play ankizízunai, the game would never end.”

There was silence for a moment. Lotor resisted the urge to fidget with his hands. “May I….ask you a question?”

Keith turned slightly to look over his shoulder. “Go ahead.”

“Do you truly not know your House?”

Keith sighed and closed his eyes. “Sailel tell you that?”

“Yes.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back into the pilot chair, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “Yes. I don’t remember my mother, even though I know my Galran blood must be from her. I don’t remember her name, or her House, so I don’t remember mine.”

The silence was a little more awkward this time. “I don’t remember my mother either,” Lotor offered softly. “I know about her, but I don’t remember her. Honerva was one of Altea’s greatest alchemists before the Fall.”

Lotor watched as Keith drew his knife from its scabbard. He seemed to be looking for something in its reflection, some hint of his ancestry, the answer to the question he was likely never going to get. “I hope my mother was something like that.”

“Well, if her kid is one of the Blade’s most renowned fighters, and the Red Paladin of Voltron, then I can’t imagine she was any less.”

Keith looked up at him, something unreadable in his eyes. “And you’re not just Zarkon’s son. You’re also Honerva’s. You’ve helped the Coalition in countless ways before it was even formed.”

* * *

_ You’re not just Zarkon’s son. _

Logically, Lotor knew this. He’d researched his mother while combing the universe for remnants of Altea. Honerva had been one of Altea’s greatest alchemists, brining the discipline leaps and bounds into the future while Alfor applied what she learned to the Lions.

He was Honerva’s son too, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still Zarkon’s son. Still the son of the greatest mass-murderer the universe had ever seen, of the tyrant who had overtaken almost all of the known universe. How did one make up for that? A Galra’s House was one of the most important parts of their identity, bringing with it a legacy of honor that had to be upheld.

Zarkon had smashed House Marmora’s honor through a black hole. There was no way Lotor could ever make up for that. So he learned about his Altean heritage, helped the Altean diaspora find a new home. He tried to save the last vestiges of what the Empire destroyed before they disappeared in a fireball or succumbed to the komar. 

_ (Maybe, now, he didn’t have to watch the fire.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me infodumping about the Blade _yeet_


	5. Maybe, He Wasn't Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor has a hunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for _more infodump yeet_  
>  seriously how did this fic grow so out of proportion than I originally meant it to now it's like Super Important

Something seemed to settle between Keith and Lotor after that conversation in the cockpit. Conversation didn’t necessarily flow easily, but the silence no longer had an aura of awkwardness.

The Generals did indeed reform the Dark Whispers, placing them under Keith’s direct command, which meant while Lotor was almost always on missions with Keith, Keith wasn’t always on missions with him. Eventually, Lotor and his former Generals were attached to the Whispers as a sub-team, to great effect.

Questions still hovered in the back of Lotor’s mind, but he never seemed to get a chance to ask them. Keith never seemed to sleep, running himself ragged between missions, reports, and training. He didn’t want to take what little free time the young Blade gave himself.

The one time Lotor saw him actually sleep, he had wandered into the smaller observation deck. He found Keith halfway-leaning against the side of the inlet, head pillowed on Yorak’s side. He was, surprisingly, out of his suit, wearing what looked like Earth clothes and a bright red jacket. Yorak picked his head up and growled lowly, glinting quintessence-blue in the light provided by the blue star. Lotor raised his hands and backed out of the room slowly.

He ran into Narti around the corner. She was obviously headed for the observation deck, a blanket in her hands.

 

Lotor had never really liked fire. It always reminded him of the planet, of the days afterwards. He’d gotten better with it, Zethrid’s molten rock and Narti’s burning river always around, but sometimes all he could feel was a million voices crying out to be saved from the fire.

On the Blade base, though, there was always fire. Aside from the mass of fire-quintessence caught between the two black holes, sending sparks scattering through the surrounding area, there was the people. The massive array matched any he’d ever seen, from swirls of all five to the Generals’ almost-double-type.

And then there was Keith, a firestorm he could sense from anywhere in the base, and sometimes even just outside. Lotor had never seen the sheer force of a Paladin quintessence before he had surrendered himself to the Coalition. Not even he and his former Generals, as powerful as they were, came close.

The first time he stood on the bridge of the Castle overwhelmed his senses. Keith's firestorm stood next to Lance’s raging river, sparks bouncing off each other through a connection so strong Lotor could almost _see_ it. Next to them Pidge’s nature-quintessence stood strong, solid wood hiding a burning core. Hunk’s earth-quintessence almost looked like it was covered in vines, strands connecting him to the other Paladins. Allura’s hurricane so much like his own stood in the centre, water flowing gently from her to the others.

“Perhaps we should all take a break,” Allura suggested, “Get some food. You all just got here and Shiro isn’t back yet, so I see no point in continuing to plan without him.”

There was a chorus of agreements before Pidge, Lance, and Hunk all grabbed onto Keith’s arms and bodily dragged him out of sight. Bersaan called jokingly after them and ran to follow, Mosov, Raykob, Zethrid, and Ezor on her heels. Narti and Acxa looked back at him, a question on their faces, but he waved them on. Both hesitated, but followed the others.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably overwhelmed.”

Lotor turned to look at Allura. It felt easier to breathe without all of them on the bridge; Allura was probably one of the few people alive that truly understood. “There is….a lot of quintessence on this ship.”

She gave him a small smile. “Indeed. Ten Paladin-capable quintessences, plus the Whispers and Coran, not to mention the Lions themselves. It can be a lot to take in.”

“Ten?”

Allura tilted her head, a gesture she’d probably picked up from the Paladins. “You and your team all have Paladin-capable quintessences. You didn’t know this?”

Lotor shook his head. “I had thought we were, but after I met Keith, it seemed we were missing something.”

“Ah. The only difference between you and Keith is the fact that he is bonded with the Lions, and you aren’t. The bond tends to strengthen a Paladin’s quintessence, giving them a little of the Lion’s power. Perhaps, in another universe, you and your Generals would have been the Paladins.”

“But he’s not actively a Paladin, why does he still have the extra power?”

Allura gestured to follow her and started walking out of the bridge towards the kitchen. “The extra power doesn’t go away, nor does the bond. The Lion would have to switch the focus of the bond of a former Paladin was piloting again, though, which can take a lot of energy from both Paladin and Lion. Keith is still capable of piloting both Scarlet and Kuro if he wants to.”

“He just doesn’t want to.”

Allura hummed. “Frankly, I think he would love to pilot a Lion again, but he’s decided that he can better serve with the Blade.”

They walked in silence, Allura lost in thought while Lotor mused on this tidbit of information.

* * *

Lotor was listening to Ezor and Bersaan's conversation about the merits of food goo with the Green, Yellow, and Blue Paladins (apparently it was wonderfully tasty to Altean tongues, bland to Human, and revolting to Galran) when another powerful quintessence slammed against his senses. It was a whirlwind, beating against the Castle walls on its way up to the dining room.

But there was something _wrong_ with it. Something twisting its way through, a string leading back through a labyrinth.

It felt like the Witch, if she’d ever had any non-corrupted quintessence.

Lotor froze, trying to figure out what exactly the quintessence was, where it was heading, but it seemed to be fading, retreating somewhere he couldn’t feel it. By the time the Black Paladin walked into the dining room, Lotor had lost track of the corrupted string.

Had he imagined it? The Princess could surely sense any corrupted quintessence on her ship, right? Failing that, the Lions were perfectly capable of warning the Paladins of anything within their sensing range, which _had_ to be huge. It must have been a trick of his mind.

Lotor turned to find a pair of violet eyes boring into him. They didn’t blink, didn’t move away from his. He was pretty sure there was a yellow border around them. “Did you….feel that.” Lotor whispered.

The owner of the eyes gave a very slow, almost imperceptible nod. The two stared at each other while Lotor tried to figure out _how_ until three loud cries of “Hey, Shiro!” burst him out of his thoughts.

The Black Paladin winced at the sheer volume. “Hey guys. Hey Keith and crew.”

Violet eyes finally turned away from Lotor and towards the Black Paladin that was walking towards him. “Hi, Shiro.”

Shiro gave Keith a clap on the shoulder with his Human hand. “Sorry for making you all wait. Save any food goo for me? I'd rather not eat in Kuro.”

* * *

Lotor managed to tell Allura about the corrupted quintessence before they left. She assured him there was no corrupted quintessence on the Castle, and if it was in the area, well, they were in deep space and leaving anyway. He wasn’t quite so sure about that, but kept it to himself. If it hadn’t been for Keith, he would have never brought it up in the first place.

Keith. Lotor studied him from across the Black Lion’s hold. He was having a quiet conversation with Shiro over the comms, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he’d unleashed in Lotor’s mind. How had he managed to sense it? There were a few very quintessence sensitive species known in the universe, the foremost being Alteans, but Keith was fairly sure his ancestry was purely Galran and Human.

“Acxa,” Lotor murmured.

She scooted closer to him. “Yes?”

“In all our travels, studying quintessence and historical attempts to harness it, do you remember anything about how species became sensitive to it?”

Acxa considered for a moment. “I believe the prevailing theory before research completely stopped was that close proximity to marthuzitok instills the ability to sense the five types of normal quintessence over a long evolutionary period.”

“But not corrupted.”

“Correct.”

“What about quintessence resistance?”

“I don’t believe we ever actually ran across that, but you had a theory that evolving at an even closer proximity, where there was no such thing as the quintessence radiation being weak enough to be ineffective, would either generate a quintessence resistance, an ability to sense the specific type of quintessence within the marthuzitok, or both.”

“And if the marthuzitok was corrupted?”

“Why are you asking me all this?”

“I merely want to make sure I am not misremembering.”

She narrowed her eyes, considering him. “Do I want to know why?”

“Were you ever taught about the Thuranial War?”

Acxa shook her head. “Merely that it was the longest and bloodiest war in Galran history.”

“The Thuranial War started because the five Houses disagreed upon how to use the Marzigan. So many documents have been lost about it that I don’t know precisely what the Marzigan _was,_ but it was powerful and full of quintessence. House Martok wanted to expand their capabilities, while Houses Marmora and Mardukae were concerned that the Marzigan was having….ill effects on the populace. After a deadly confrontation during the House Council, war erupted.

“For something such a huge part of our history, there’s a surprising lack of documents about it, likely due to the razing of Dyikealiulide and the subsequent attack on Daisailulide. The only solid documents detail the rise of Kovan Peace-Bringer. The Marzigan, by then called the Thuranial by the Marmorait who survived the destruction of Daisailuide, was destroyed in the final battle by the Five Templars. Kovan Peace-Bringer was named the first High Emperor, the other Templars his advisers.

“What I was mostly thinking about was the destruction of Daisailuide. There was a theory that during the war the Martokit were experimenting with quintessence somehow related to the Thuranial, and that what they attacked Daisailuide with was a result of that. Some sources make it very similar to Haggar’s komar. It killed most of the city. Those that survived were...different. Much of it I’m sure could be attributed to the fact that their city was just destroyed, but I’ve heard a theory that the proto-komar itself affected them. The surviving Marmorait became attuned to it, able to just barely sense the type of quintessence that House Martok used to create the proto-komar.”

“What type?”

“Corrupted.”

* * *

The first time the Whispers ran into a Druid, Lotor’s team was disconnected from them for the first time since their reinception. They got back to Base amid a flurry of rumors and excitement.

Sailel and Regris sidled up to Lotor’s team as they exited the hangar. “Did you hear? The Whispers went up against a Druid. They made it out with all the intel and _not a scratch on them.”_

Regris nodded enthusiastically. “I heard the kid killed the Druid with his eyes closed.”

Lotor raised an eyebrow. “I can believe beating a Druid, but that’s a bit much even for Keith.”

“You should’ve seen Bersaan telling the story! He just _threw_ his Blade at it! Wham! Straight through the head, like he sensed where it was going to teleport!”

* * *

_Sensed where it was going to teleport._

The Druids were made from corrupted quintessence, controlled almost directly by the Witch. Maybe Keith _had_ sensed it, but didn’t even know it himself, just like he'd sensed the string of corrupted quintessence on the Castle. Lotor _knew_ that the corrupted quintessence on the Castle was there, it had been so _vivid_ and almost _loud._ If Allura couldn’t sense it, then maybe Alteans couldn’t sense the corrupted quintessence.

But he himself could. Half-Altean, half-Galran.

Half _Marmorait._

_(Maybe, he wasn’t alone.)_


	6. Blood and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor makes a decision and has a revelation.

Lotor stood in the infirmary, gazing down at the young Blade unconscious on the bed. His face was drained of what little color it had, the pale lavender sheets washing him out even more. He couldn’t see it, but Lotor knew the sheet covered three long, deep gashes just above his left hip. His hands were usually steady, but now they were shaking uncontrollably. He crossed his arms and shoved the offending appendages underneath.

Keith had almost _died_ today. He had almost died, if Lotor hadn’t been there he _would_ have died, succumbed to the corrupted quintessence before they had even gotten him to base.

Fuck, he was just a _kid._

On the other side of the bed, General Krolia sat in a chair. One hand was hovering near Keith’s, the other wrapped around as if giving herself a hug. He had no idea how she was feeling, no indication of her thoughts beyond the occasional slight hitch in her breath. Lotor’s eyes kept wandering to her face, to the distinctive markings that curled across her cheeks. The Crest of Marmora.

Kozur, Vanab, Ezor, Narti, Acxa, and Zethrid, along with the Whispers and a few others, had all flitted in and out, staying for as long as they could afford. Kolivan had stayed until the medics had pronounced that the worst Keith would have was a nasty scar, then left to put the mission in order and catch up on Coalition missions since he’d left to extract Krolia and then crash their disaster of a stealth mission.

“Lotor.”

He turned to find Kolivan standing at the door, beckoning him closer. “Yes, Sir?” he said as the door closed behind him.

“I need you to take the compass stone to Voltron. Normally I would send Keith, but I believe your Altean abilities might be helpful, and….” He trailed off, the end of the statement obvious. They both glanced through the window of the door at the figure on the bed. “They are aware that you are coming. I suggest you leave as soon as the path opens in six vargas.”

“Yes, Sir. Are they aware of—“

“No. And I’d prefer it stay that way at least until you get back. They’re liable to come rushing in here and smother him with affection. He and Krolia need a little time before that happens.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Go get some sleep.”

Lotor nodded and bowed. He looked into the room one more time before he headed for his bunk.

“And, Lotor?”

“Yes?”

“He’ll be alright.” 

* * *

Lotor and the rest of the Whispers were sitting in the mess hall before he left to bring the stone to Voltron. It was quiet, Keith’s absence from the table palpable. Ezor stopped chewing and broke the silence to ask: “Hey, Lotor, isn’t Keith kinda your cousin or something now?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Acxa sighed.

Ezor rolled her eyes and swallowed. “Okay but seriously, yeah?”

“I suppose so.”

* * *

Lotor opened the door to the observation deck and found Keith exactly where he thought he would be. The one predictable thing he had discovered about Keith was that when he wanted to be alone, he’d sequester himself in the smaller, little used observation deck and stare out at the stars. He definitely wanted to be alone right now, Lotor had heard about the shouting match, but he had a burning question in the back of his mind and a package to deliver.

Yet, this was the most peaceful he’d seen the younger blade since before their last mission. He almost didn’t want to disturb him. He was leaning against the edge of the lower inset, Yorak curled against his uninjured side, a tablet lying forgotten by his other side.

“Keith?”

Keith jerked, startled, and turned to face him. “What?” he growled.

Lotor stepped over to the rim and let his legs dangle by the other. He handed him the package in his hand. “It’s from Coran,” he said with a gentleness he didn’t know he had.

Keith looked down at it for a moment, before taking it and opening the lid. Yorak lifted his head and sniffed at it. “Is...is this--?”

“Coran said to tell you, I quote, “Pidge, Lance, and I haven’t managed to make a workable implant that can synthesize T directly from your bloodstream, but we did manage to reverse engineer something to manufacture it from samples Shiro generously donated.” He said that should last you a decaphoeb or so.”

Gently, Keith put the lid back on. He gave Lotor a barely-hidden watery smile. “Thanks. For bringing this.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sat and studied the other as Keith read the label Coran had placed on the side of the box in scrawled Galran letters. Keith wasn’t in his Blade suit, the swath of bandages just above his left hip probably making it uncomfortable, but in the red jacket Lotor had only ever seen him wear once. His eyes were tight with pain now that the dovra that had kept him alive and fighting was out of his system; Lotor had the feeling the only reason he wasn’t still in the infirmary was not even Kolivan could convince him to do something when he didn’t want to do it. The package seemed to have lifted his spirits, though.

“May I ask a question?”

“If it’s “what are these for” that’s going to require a lengthy explanation of Human biology I’m not prepared to give you right now.”

“No, although I would be interested in that at another time. Do you remember what I asked you on the training deck several phoebs ago?”

Keith looked up at him. “About why I keep helping you?”

“Yes. I know what you said that night is true, but I can’t help but feel it was not all of the truth.”

He pursed his lips, staring down at the package. “I guess….after Naxzela, I was on the Castle with Kolivan for a few days. I’d almost died before you showed up, and then Matt showed up and mother-henned some sense into me and even yelled at _Kolivan._ I still don’t know if Shiro knows what I almost did. I was a bit of a mess, mentally. And then….Kolivan asked Allura if he could take you, Acxa, Narti, Zethrid, and Ezor to go through the trials. He said you all had been declared dumora and I just….”

Keith sighed and leaned back. His right hand wound itself through Yorak’s fur; the wolf shifted his head so it was in his lap. “I know what it’s like. To not have a family. It sucks. If I hadn’t met Shiro when I did….I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t be alive right now, much less here. I would’ve been shunted into yet another shitty foster home, moved around until the government decided it couldn’t bother with me anymore or I couldn’t fucking deal with the noise, insults, and shame and just….ended it. So when I heard that Zarkon had declared you dumora, cutting you off from any last vestiges of support and family, even if it hadn’t really been there in the first place, it hurt.

“I didn’t even know you at that point. All I knew was you were a damn good fighter who’d nearly taken Voltron to our knees several times and didn’t seem to truly care for the Empire. So I made a split second decision to vouch for you. I guess….I guess I was hoping I could help you like Shiro helped me. Provide you an anchor so you could save yourself.”

He gave a weak laugh and winced when it pulled on the steadily-healing gashes on his side. “Fire Paladin at my finest. Risking everything on an impulse that has an off chance of saving just one more poor unfortunate soul from this mess.”

Lotor stared at the former Paladin. “Do you regret it?”

Keith didn’t even think about it. “No.”

Lotor studied Keith.  He thought of the Blade Generals that practically doted on the young halfblood. He thought of the strike team that were loyal almost to a fault. He thought of the six people on the Castle that had been so disappointed when Keith hadn’t accompanied him. He thought of the mother so desperate to protect her kid she’d risked life and mission several times.

“Keith, you….know you have a family, right?”

Keith blinked up at him. “I mean, I have Shiro. But he’s been kinda….distant lately.”

Lotor shook his head. “More than Shiro. The Paladins. The Blades, especially the Generals. Your mother.” The other seemed to shut down at the mention of Krolia and Lotor was reminded of his own younger self. “Look, Keith. I don’t know everything that’s happened to you in your life to make you seemingly willfully unaware, but I do know that you _do_ have a family. They consider you family, even if you don’t realize it, and I _know_ you consider them so. So don’t….don’t cut yourself off. Don’t lose that bond.”

Keith snorted. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“...What?”

“It means you’re being hypocritical. Maybe take a look at yourself. Go talk to your former Generals. I think they’d have something to say about you not having a family.” 

* * *

He ran into Krolia as he left the observation deck. She was obviously heading where he had just left. They stared at each other for a minute.

“Keith is in there.”

“I know.”

“I think, if you go now, he would be willing to talk to you. Just be careful.”

She pursed her lips. “I know. I never wanted to hurt him, and I never want to do it again.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer, before Lotor clicked his heels together and crossed his arms for the Marmorait bow. “Your kinai is a wonder of a person, Krolia, Kisekmet Marmorait. I wish you luck.”

* * *

“Alright, spill the beats, or whatever the Paladins say.”

Lotor glanced over at Ezor, who had plopped herself down next to him. He was sitting in the little-used corner of the hangar that was reserved for wayward Lions. “I believe it’s “beans.””

“What even is a bean? No, that’s not why I came over here. What’s with the extra brooding?”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Eh…. you kinda are.”

“I am merely….thinking.”

Zethrid appeared from somewhere and leaned against the wall nearby. “What about?”

Lotor sighed. He wasn’t getting out of this one was he. “Something Keith said to me earlier.”

“Which waaaaas?”

“I was being hypocritical.”

Acxa settled down on his other side, dragging Narti along to sit between them. “What about?”

“I….could you all be truthful with me, just for a moment?”

“We always are.”

He looked at Ezor. There was no lie in her eyes. He glanced at Zethrid, who nodded in agreement, then at Acxa who gave him a soft smile, and Narti, who gave him a comforting pat on the leg before her cat curled up on his lap.

“Do you consider me family?”

There was a beat of silence in which Lotor truly feared he’d fucked up before Ezor snorted. “You idiot.”

“What?”

“Who pulled us all out of the backwater shit freezing cold planets Zarkon stuck us on? Who gave us an opportunity to actually use our skills?”

Zethrid came off the wall and squatted down in front of him. “Who treated us like people despite his high rank? Who have we watched risk his position and life to protect the scattered remnants of planets destroyed by the Empire?”

“You, you idiot.”

“But--”

“There’s a reason we followed you from the Empire, Lotor,” Acxa’s quiet voice cut him off, “You’re the first person in a very long while that has treated us like family. You saved us, treated us how you would any other, kept us safe as much as you could. That’s why we followed you here.”

Narti reached for his hand and squeezed. _Stupid thinking stupid thoughts. Big brother. Sisters. Family._

_Love._

Lotor sucked in a breath and opened eyes he didn’t know he’d closed. The four of them were looking at him with soft smiles on their faces. Maybe, he did have a family.

No, not maybe. He _did._ He had Acxa and Ezor and Narti and Zethrid. He had them, and they had each other, and maybe that was a a family was. Someone that wanted to be there to help when you got injured, someone that wanted to be there to make you laugh, someone that wanted to be there because they genuinely enjoyed your company.

So _fuck_ Haggar, and _fuck_ Zarkon. They’d never been family, his parents though they were. Perhaps once, before she had become the Witch, and he freely admitted to himself now that she was the Witch, Honerva would have loved him. Perhaps Zarkon would have helped him restore House Marmora’s honor. But they couldn’t now. They had fallen down a dark path that he resolved to never follow.

He _couldn’t_ follow. There were people counting on him. Ambar needed their protectors. Keith and Krolia didn’t deserve the task of resurrecting House Marmora’s honor alone. He couldn’t leave Acxa and Ezor and Narti and Zethrid. Who cared about disappointing those who had never considered him family? His family was right here, on this hidden base protected from the rest of the universe.

For the first time since he’d watched a planet get glassed from orbit, Lotor released the shifting on his face. Red crescents appeared just under his eyes, glowing for a moment before they settled into place. A purple darker than the rest of his skin slashed down his cheeks, curving like the gentle crest of a wave at his jawbone before joining on the back of his neck and extending downwards.

“Damn, that’s cool.”

Ezor elbowed Zethrid, but Lotor just huffed a laugh. “Thank you. I don’t think I would be here without you.”

“Awww, we’re supposed to be the ones thanking you, right? Wait, have we ever had a group hug before? I think this calls for a group hug!”

Ezor just barely managed to pull them all into a hug. Someone’s elbow was poking into his side, his knee was surely somewhere uncomfortable, but Lotor found himself smiling at them.

Family. 

* * *

“You still haven’t explained why we’re here.”

Keith grinned over his shoulder at the five halfbloods behind him. “You’ll see.”

“I’m tired of “we’ll see.”” Ezor whined. “Why the hell are we on the Castle if we haven’t even seen any of the Paladins?”

“What, I don’t count anymore? I seem to remember a time when you called me nothing but “Paladin.””

“You’re not currently stationed on the Castle. Plus, you spent literal phoebs getting us to call you Keith instead.”

“Fair point I suppose. Just hang on a few more dobashes, we’re almost there.”

“Where are we even going?” Lotor asked. It felt like they’d been walking for ages.

“Again, _you’ll see.”_

“Are we going wherever Kolivan is?”

Lotor glanced back at Acxa as Keith did too. “Possibly.”

Zethrid grinned. “That’s a yes.”

“No it’s not.”

“It so totally is. Come on, spill the beats, Keithy-cat.”

Keith actually stopped walking and turned to glare at Ezor. The other four were failing to hide snickers at his reaction. “I’m starting to miss when you just called me Paladin.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“Wasn’t two big siblings enough,” Keith groaned to the universe, but Lotor caught the smile as he turned back around.

“Maybe if you just told us….”

“Nope! We’re here anyway.” They’d stopped in front of a doorway Lotor had never seen before. Keith gestured the five of them to go ahead and tapped the panel.

“Ah! There you five are,” Allura’s voice drifted towards them. She jumped down into view from somewhere, her jetpack activating as she landed next to where Kolivan was standing. They’d walked into what looked a lot like the Lion’s communal hangar, but sized differently. There was something big and dark and probably metal just behind Allura, taking up the entire area he could see.

“Princess. General.”

Allura grinned at them and gestured behind her. “Like what you see?”

“I am not sure what I see?”

“Remember those ships you arrived in at Naxzela?”

Lotor blinked at her for a moment before glancing back at the hunk of metal. It was a _ship._ There were two more on either side of it, just barely visible around the bend of the hangar. All three had distinctive orange and purple markings. “You finished them?” he breathed.

“Indeed,” Kolivan’s gruff voice rang out, “We agreed it was about time that one of our most powerful units be trusted with their ships.”

He stared between the Princess and General, speechless. “I….thank you.”

“Well, go on, try them out! There’s a reason the Castle’s in deep space right now.”

Acxa, Narti, Zethrid, and Ezor all ran to the ships, varying degrees of excitement on their faces, but Lotor paused and turned around. He caught Keith’s eye from where the other was standing by the door to the hangar. He had a small smirk on his face. Lotor knew that Keith’s word must have been what had prompted Allura to finish the ships.

Keith’s grin grew as he crossed his arms and brought his feet together in the Marmorait bow. “Go test your ship, Black Templar of Sinkline.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Templars of Sinkline are off to have some Shenanigans of their own :D
> 
> (i changed the spelling to match how I've been writing Galran shhhhhhhhhhhh)


End file.
